


Unyielding Wrath

by Doctor_Discord



Series: Fantasy AU [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Animal Abuse, Black Markets, Blood, Caretaking, Chaos, Domestic Fluff, Fear, Gods, Kidnapping, Magic, Major Character Injury, Overprotective, Pixies, Prophetic Visions, Rage, Sort Of, Sphynx, Torture, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 23:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19119574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: The Host likes to believe he is a friendly, gentle god. He talks with his people. His library is the dead center of one of the biggest cities in the world. While the other gods dislike interacting with the 'lower' species, the Host enjoys them. And his guardian Dr. Ipliercertainlybrings joy and love into his life.But what will he do when someone hurts Dr. Iplier? The Host may have anincrediblegift for forgiveness, but how badly will his shell break when theone beinghe loves most is harmed?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE MY SON I LOVE MY SON I LOVE MY SON I LOVE MY SON I LOVE MY SON I LOVE MY SON I LOVE MY SON I LOVE MY SON

The Host woke with a content little smile.

He shifted on his ‘bed’ of feathers, moving closer to the mass of fur that was Dr. Iplier. The sphynx’s legs were wound around him, hugging the Host close to his belly with his wings wrapped around him in added warmth. He could feel Dr. Iplier’s breath tickling his hair, still out cold himself. It was a _wonderful_ way to wake up, enveloped in the one he loved most.

That being said…

The Host shifted again, reaching up a hand to run his fingers through the fur of Dr. Iplier’s shoulder. “Doctor…” Dr. Iplier sighed in his sleep, the paw loosely holding the Host’s head close flexing its claws. The Host chuckled, not fearing the massive claws prickling against the nape of his neck, knowing Dr. Iplier would never (seriously) hurt him. “Dr. Iplier…”

“Nnngh…” Dr. Iplier shifted, the wing the Host wasn’t lying on fluttering and flapping a bit and his claws flexing again. He yawned hugely, and the Host pulled a face at the smell of his breath. “Mmm…morning, Host.”

The Host smiled, shifting his hand to cup Dr. Iplier’s cheek instead. “Good morning, doctor.” He raised an eyebrow. “Would Dr. Iplier like to let go of the Host now?”

He felt Dr. Iplier grin, and then he was pulling the Host closer, _purposefully_ crushing the Host’s face against his chest. “Nah.”

The Host flailed, making muffled noises into Dr. Iplier’s fur. The sphynx laughed, rolling onto his back before letting go. The Host drew in a gasping breath, then pouted, thumping his fist against Dr. Iplier’s chest. “Don’t _do_ that!”

Dr. Iplier rolled back over onto his side – causing the Host to land in a heap on the floor – before getting to his feet and stretching languidly in a very cat-like fashion. He yawned again as he spoke. “I’m not apologizing.”

The Host huffed, standing himself and crossing his arms. He shivered once with the absence of Dr. Iplier’s body heat, and he muttered quietly under his breath to light the nearby candles and slowly warm his vast library. Dr. Iplier made a purr-like noise, pressing against his side and winding around him. He leaned his head down to sniff at the Host’s bandages before pressing his nose to the Host’s hair. “Are you cold?”

The Host shrugged, leaning into Dr. Iplier. “For now. The library will warm, and the Host has Dr. Iplier.” He smiled softly, running a hand through Dr. Iplier’s mop of black human hair.

The affectionate response he got in return was Dr. Iplier’s tongue dragging along his cheek.

The Host spluttered, shoving Dr. Iplier’s head away with one hand as he wiped at his cheek with the other. Dr. Iplier laughed, weaving around him slowly. “ _Doctor!_ Dr. Iplier should _know better_ by now!” Dr. Iplier snorted, laughing more. He licked the Host again on the back of his head, making his hair stand up oddly, and the Host made a disgusted noise. He grumbled under his breath, crossing his arms again.

He took one step in the vague direction of his desk, but then Dr. Iplier was batting him to the floor. He planted one paw on the Host’s chest, pinning him down and growling softly. “Oh no you don’t, you’re _not_ going to your desk yet. You may be immortal, but you still need to eat. Now can you _walk_ to the kitchen or do I need to carry you so you don’t slip away?”

The Host pushed at his paw, but Dr. Iplier was impossible to move. “The Host is perfectly capable of _walking_ himself.”

Dr. Iplier hummed, his eyes no doubt narrowing suspiciously. “…I don’t trust that phrasing. Come on.”

The Host made a wordless noise of protest as Dr. Iplier rolled him over and picked him up by the back of his neck, tossing him gracelessly onto his own back. Before the Host had a chance to slip off, Dr. Iplier spread his wings and launched into the air. The Host gripped on tight to his fur as Dr. Iplier soared straight up, landing surprisingly light considering his size on the third-floor balcony. The Host made to slip off his back, but Dr. Iplier flared his wings, preventing him from doing so. “Oh come on! _Dr. Iplier!_ ”

Dr. Iplier huffed, weaving his way through the bookshelves and making his way to the kitchen. “You’re staying put! It’s my job to take care of you, and you make that _extremely_ difficult sometimes!” He pawed open the door to the massive kitchen ( _everything_ was massive in order to accommodate a 12’ long _lion_ ), _then_ finally lowered his wings to let the Host slip off his back. He promptly picked the Host up by the back of his neck though, not giving him a chance to escape, and plopped him down in a chair at the table. “ _Stay_. I’m going out hunting. If you don’t fucking eat something I’m gonna start treating you like a baby bird and _neither_ of us want that.”

The Host snorted, summoning an apple from the counter and biting into it. Apparently satisfied, Dr. Iplier gave a loud, throaty hum (the lion equivalent of purring), and nuzzled his face against the Host’s neck. “I’ll be back soon.”

The old god swallowed hurriedly, twisting in his chair to trail his hand down Dr. Iplier’s spine as he walked off. “Be careful.”

Dr. Iplier paused. “Host, I have been absorbing your magic every day since I was two days old. You’d have to be a suicidal _idiot_ to try and attack me.” He brushed the black tuft of longer fur on the end of his tail under the Host’s chin, lingering there. “That being said…yes, I’ll be careful. I promise.”

The door audibly swung shut, and the Host heard the whoosh of Dr. Iplier’s wings as he dropped back down to the first level. The Host turned back to his apple, taking another bite.

He loved Dr. Iplier with all his heart, but a little alone time sometimes was nice, too.


	2. Chapter 2

A couple hours later, the Host was sitting at his desk in the center and scribbling away. Dr. Iplier was yet to come back, but he wasn’t worried. Dr. Iplier had disappeared for a whole day before, but he never went far. If the Host went outside, he’d probably be able to hear him roaring.

The Host continued to sort through and transcribe visions of his people, of the city around him, and of the biomes around that. He smiled at a vision of Bing and Google curled together asleep by King’s tree in the forest (the dryad himself sitting on the pier with Bim), the pair having left his library about a week ago. The immediate _euphoria_ that had overtaken Google when the Host removed his ability…it reminded the Host in the best way possible why he loved being a god.

He was jarred from his emersion by a soft knock on his library doors. The Host frowned, brow furrowed with confusion as he set his quill down and stood. He made his way over to the doors, hurrying his pace when the knock came again. He opened the door, tilting his head to the side. A boy was standing on his doorstep, no older than ten and trembling slightly. The Host smiled softly, pushing the door open wider. “Hello.” One of his fingers twitched as he heard the belittling whispers of the watching people, criticizing the boy for interrupting him. “Come inside.”

The boy hesitated before slipping past the Host into the library. He closed the door gently before turning around. He could feel the boy’s fear, and in attempt to soothe his nerves the Host sank to his knees to be on the same level. The Host smiled again. “There is no need to be so afraid. The Host will not harm Jeremy.”

The boy – Jeremy – switched from radiating fear to curiosity. “…How did you know my name?”

The Host chuckled. “The Host knows many things. Now what brings Jeremy to the Host’s library?”

Surprise washed over him when Jeremy let out a choked sob. “It’s…I-it’s my mom, she’s _really_ sick, and – the doctors say they can’t help her anymore and – you’re supposed to-to help us right? My dad – he’s given up, and…I thought…”

He let out another gasping sob, and the Host melted, pulling the boy close in a hug. Jeremy fisted the Host’s toga tight in his hands, crying into his shoulder. The Host held him close, one hand gently cupping the back of Jeremy’s head, and made his voice nothing but a soft whisper. “Shhh, it’s alright. Of course the Host will help, here –”

He pulled back, dropping his hand from Jeremy’s head and holding it out instead. A few mumbled words later, a little pink square was resting in his palm, like a rose Turkish Delight. He smiled warmly. “Give this to her. Within twenty-four hours of eating it she will be perfectly healthy. The Host promises.”

He felt Jeremy bounce in his arms, and then the boy was hugging him again, burying his face in the crook of the Host’s neck. “Thank you thank you thank you! I –” He sniffled, pulling back and carefully picking up the candy. “Thank you.”

The Host’s face softened, cupping Jeremy’s face in both hands and wiping away his tears with his thumbs. “It was the Host’s pleasure.” He cocked his head to the side. “Is there anything else Jeremy needs?”

The boy shifted. “Um…can I ask you something?”

The Host raised an eyebrow. “Of course.”

“…What happened to your eyes?”

The Host stiffened, but immediately forced himself to relax for Jeremy’s sake, to not frighten him. “…Knowledge always has a price, even for gods. The Host’s sight was a price he was willing to pay.” He smiled suddenly, getting to his feet and taking Jeremy’s hand. “Come. Jeremy’s family must be worried.”

He gently led Jeremy back to the doors, pushing them open and guiding him outside. He looked down when Jeremy tugged on his hand. “Um…where’s Dr. Iplier? I…I kind of…wanted to…”

The Host raised an eyebrow, then laughed, crouching back down to Jeremy’s level. “Did Jeremy want to pet the Host’s guardian?”

He didn’t have to have sight to know the boy was blushing. “…Maybe.”

The Host tilted his head, laughter clear in his voice. “Well, Dr. Iplier is currently out hunting. But if Jeremy comes back tomorrow, when his mother is healed, the Host is positive Dr. Iplier will be around then.”

Jeremy beamed, bouncing a little in place. “Okay!”

The Host stood, nudging Jeremy lightly. “Go on. Jeremy has a mother to take care of.”

Jeremy sprinted off without another word.

The Host sighed, retreating back into his library and making his way toward his desk once more. He collapsed heavily into his chair, propping his elbow up on his desk and resting his forehead in his hand. It bothered him _immensely_ that Jeremy had been so afraid initially, that his people had been so scornful toward the boy for asking his help. The Host made it a point to be friendly and approachable to his people. Once a month he went out to sit on the stairs leading up to his library and just _chat_ with the people who passed by, Dr. Iplier at his side. Or at least…he _used_ to. Perhaps those 70 years locked away and doing nothing but _work_ were more detrimental than he thought.

He sighed again, rubbing his forehead a couple of times between his thumb and forefinger before sitting up straighter. He picked up his quill again, hesitating before putting it the parchment sprawled across his desk. He wished he had Dr. Iplier right about now, to provide him with comfort and reassurance he sorely needed. He didn’t _mean_ to ignore his people. It was just…time was so easy to _forget_ when one’s immortal. He just got…lost in his head _so easily_. Perhaps he should check on Dr. Iplier, via vision. To see when he would be coming home.

His quill connected with the parchment, and he began writing, actively searching for visions of Dr. Iplier. The first one he got was of Dr. Iplier napping in a patch of sunlight in the library, sprawled out on his back with a content little smile. The Host smiled fondly at the vision, wading past it to another.

_He stalked slowly through the trees of the forest, keeping to the shadows. He had his eyes on a deer, grazing just a few feet away. He licked his lips, dropping into a crouch. His tail swished lightly over the forest floor, his wings tucked close to his body._

_“_ Now! _”_

_His head shot up, eyes wide as he watched the deer sprint away. And then he was being_ swarmed _, chains being thrown over his body and cinched tight. He snarled, displaying his canines as he swiped at the creatures that suddenly surrounded him from every side. The chains tightened and he was forced to drop into a crouch, but that didn’t stop him from roaring and flaring his wings. More chains came, and he let out a choked cry of pain as his wings were forced back to his body, metal digging harshly into the sensitive limbs._

_His lips curled up in another snarl as two humans and a centaur came forward. The humans clamped manacles around his forelegs – rightfully skittish as his massive claws glinted – and he felt them do the same to his back legs, cold metal biting into his fur. The centaur, however, carried something that made_ fear _pool in his gut: a muzzle. A metal slab that would cover his mouth and force him to bite down on a bit. He growled, low and threatening, as the centaur drew nearer. He lunged to bite out of sheer desperation to defend himself, but he was stopped short by the chains and the bit was shoved into his mouth, the muzzle secured around the back of his head._

_The creatures surrounding him – minus the ones holding the chains and keeping him pinned – backed off, and another came forward. A naga, clearly in charge going by the tailored suit covering her human upper half. She slithered closer, mottled green snakeskin blending perfectly with the forest floor. “Oh you’re_ beautiful. _” She grabbed his chin, forcing his head up. He jerked in his chains, still growling lowly and eyes narrowed to slits. “Absolutely_ magnificent! _”_

_She bowed lower, looking directly into his eyes. He couldn’t help shrinking back slightly at her piercing, sickly green gaze. “You’re going to fetch me a_ lovely _sum of money on the market. Or who knows, perhaps I’ll keep you as a pet myself_. _”_

The Host snapped out of the vision, gasping and sobbing with blood streaming down his face and hands shaking. One trembling hand found its way to his hair, gripping tight as he attempted to ground himself. Someone had taken Dr. Iplier. Someone had _stolen_ him, and was going to _sell him_ on the black market. The Host may be blind, but he was not unaware. He knew that there was a trade for the more exotic, rare creatures that existed in their world. Most people did. And Dr. Iplier was certainly a prize to be won, just by his species alone. Add in the fact that he was much bigger than the average sphynx (because he was much _older_ than the average sphynx) and he practically radiated power and magic from absorbing exactly that from the Host for _millennia_ , and he certainly was _rare_.

The Host stood, blood dripping steadily onto his toga and creating grotesque patterns as he stumbled toward the library doors. Rage and fear and _panic_ and so many other emotions were swirling inside him, making his head spin as images of Dr. Iplier being restrained and treated like a mindless _beast_ instead of the beautiful, intelligent creature he was filled his mind.

But, as he slammed open the library doors, panting and bleeding and expression twisted, only _one_ emotion prevailed: _rage_. He rolled his shoulders, smoothing his features and clasping his hands behind his back as he stalked forward. He could hear the fearful whispers of his people as he headed toward the forest, but he didn’t particularly care. He had a one-track mind at the moment.

He was _going_ to get his guardian back. No matter _what_.


	3. Chapter 3

The Host was not one to rampage.

He preferred to leave the bloodbaths and righteous, malevolent fury to the older, more vindictive gods. In comparison, the Host was little more than a child, just beginning to find his footing in the world. He was old, but not _ancient_. The ancient ones had seen more, experienced more, and chose to step away from the world. The Host chose to be with his people. Unlike the ancient ones, the Host was not quick to anger. He doubted his people had ever seen him truly furious.

Until today.

The Host stormed through the forest with a whirlwind of power spinning around him like a tornado. He had to consciously keep himself in check so as to not destroy the trees and plant life around him. He was _furious_ and _terrified_ , but he didn’t want to harm innocents. King would never forgive him if he did. But it was _very difficult_ to do so as flashes of bloody fur and sounds of pain continued to fill his mind.

“ _Host!_ ”

The Host didn’t acknowledge the chorus of twin voices, at least, not until they were buzzing around his head with a constant chorus of his name. He scowled, clenching his fists. A nearby tree creaked. “ _What_ do the Jims _want?_ ”

He could both feel and hear the two pixies zipping circles around his head. “Dr. Iplier’s been kidnapped!”

The Host’s scowl deepened, blood dripping down his face. “ _The Host is well-aware of that!_ ”

One Jim squeaked, but the other zoomed closer. “Yes, but _we_ saw where he was taken!”

The Host froze, power whipping around him and sending the Jims flying through the air a bit with the resulting ripple. “ _Where_.”

“Follow us!”

The twin pixies darted off into the trees, the Host hot on their heels. They trekked _deep_ into the forest, trailing loosely along the coast. Any creature they happened to pass _cowered_ in the wake of the furious Host, and rightfully so. When face with the unyielding _wrath_ of a god, you’d have to be a _fool_ not to duck and cover and _get out of his way_. The Host may not be one to rampage, but he would still mow down a creature dumb enough to be in his way.

When they reached their destination – a massive concrete building on the edge of the forest by the coast – the Host froze and had to choke back a sob. Perhaps it was because he was blind, because his senses were sharper, or maybe it was a god thing; whatever the case, he could _feel_ the despair and anguish and _fear_ radiating off the building in colossal, suffocating waves. Even the Jims seemed to quiet down, still flitting by his head.

“How do you want to do this, Host,” one Jim whispered.

“Stealth mode appears to be the most appropriate option,” the other replied.

“I agree, Jim! Let’s engage in the stealth mode!”

The Host – resolutely ignoring them both – stepped forward.

With every step closer he took, the more his rage grew. He was barely able to keep himself under control, the nearby trees shuddering as if they were under the assault of a hurricane. They might as well have been. The door to the building slammed open of its own accord under the stress, and the Host stepped through the doorway with an expression of faux calm and his head held high. The guards shouted at him and each other, but once they recognized _who_ was breaching their walls they went dead silent. The Host wasn’t sure if they unanimously dropped to their knees of their own violation or if his power _made_ them.

He heard one shift, and his head whipped toward them, lips curling up in a snarl. “ _Stand up_.”

They obeyed. The way their footsteps sounded on the stone floor didn’t sound human. Too loud, too sharp. Maybe a satyr. “You’re…the Host…”

The Host snarled deep in his throat, and the guard squeaked. He stalked forward, till they were chest-to-chest and the guard was backed against the wall. “ _Yes_ , the guard before the Host can _grovel_ to him later,” he spat. “ _Where_ is Dr. Iplier?”

He could feel the guard trembling against him. _Definitely_ a satyr. “Why…but –”

The Host let out a frustrated shout, one hand shooting out to grip the guard’s shoulder and slamming them against the wall. They were practically nose-to-nose now, blood smearing across the Host’s face and no doubt permanently staining his toga. His voice was nothing but a low, threatening hiss. “ _Where. Is. The sphynx?_ ”

“U-um…that way. I-I-I mean, t-to your right.”

The Host’s head jerked in that direction. He slowly let go of the guard before smiling coldly. He backed up a step, resuming his posture of his head held high and his hands clasped behind him. “Would the Jims mind keeping these guards occupied while the Host tracks down his guardian?”

He swore the temperature in the room dropped at his words, and his smile widened. The pixies gasped, unaware or just uncaring, and they buzzed around the Host’s head. “We would _love_ to! We have a few new pranks to work out, they’d be _perfect_ test dummies!”

The Host inclined his head briefly toward them, and he headed down the hall he was directed, leaving the guards to the mercy of the chaotic pixies. He waited till he rounded the corner before he began _sprinting_ , fear and worry fueling every action. He must’ve passed _dozens_ of rooms containing screaming creatures all _pleading_ for their freedom. His heart ached for them, but he wasn’t going to stop and free every single one.

Not yet, at least.

He skidded to a halt outside one door, backtracking a bit before pressing himself up against the door. It was metal, reinforced, _incredibly_ reinforced. He could feel his power being drawn like a magnet to whatever was inside, and that only meant _one thing_.

_This_ was the room where Dr. Iplier was being held.

The door didn’t stand much longer, crumbling to ash with just a few muttered words from the Host. He heard the rattling of chains and a soft, familiar hum, and the Host darted forward, skidding to his knees before Dr. Iplier. The rattling of chains came again as the Host let out a sob, cupping Dr. Iplier’s cheek and running his other hand through the sphynx’s hair. He stiffened at the feel of metal against his palm instead of Dr. Iplier’s cheek, pressing their foreheads together. “ _Doctor_ , Dr. Iplier is okay, he is safe now, the Host came as fast as he could, he –”

He dissolved into sobs and unintelligible mutters as he ran a hand through Dr. Iplier’s hair again, moving to the back of his head to undo the buckle keeping the muzzle in place. He pulled the metal free, tossing it over his shoulder. Dr. Iplier didn’t say anything, though, just buried his face against the crook of the Host’s neck. He pulled back briefly to place a timid lick to the Host’s cheek, and for once he didn’t complain, just gave a broken laugh and pressed their foreheads together. “Come on, the Host is getting Dr. Iplier out of here.”

Dr. Iplier hummed again, though he still didn’t say anything, just panted and made a noise that sounded pained. The Host’s brow furrowed, cupping Dr. Iplier’s face in both hands. Something was wrong. Something was _very_ wrong, it was usually _impossible_ to get Dr. Iplier to shut up, why wasn’t he speaking?

The Host pulled back, expression painted with concern, and he began to mumble again, painting a picture of Dr. Iplier’s condition with his words. He could hardly get through it the more he went on, stuttering and hiccupping with sobs and gasps of horror. Dr. Iplier was chained to the floor, his body almost completely mummified in metal in an effort to keep him restrained. His legs were manacled together, barely two inches of chain linking them, and a sturdy metal collar was clasped around his neck, another length of chain linking it to the floor. But worst of all were his _wings_. They were spread to their full length, and forced to _stay there_ by metal clamps, more chains pulled taut and attached to the wall. The clamps appeared to bite all the way through the flesh of his wings, connecting in a full circle and wrapped around the bone. Now that the Host was listening, he could hear the steady drip of blood splashing against the slowly-growing puddle beneath the clamps.

The Host gently caressed Dr. Iplier’s cheekbones, wiping away new and old tears with his thumbs. “Oh doctor…” he whispered. He pressed a kiss to his forehead. “The Host will get him out of this.”

And immediately he began to mumble once more, waving a hand. Just like the door, the chains and collar and clamps dissolved, and Dr. Iplier slumped, carefully pulling his wings back to his body. He whimpered pitifully, placing another tentative lick to the Host’s cheek. His words slurred. “You’re…covered in blood…”

The Host gave a strained laugh, running a hand through Dr. Iplier’s hair. “Shhh. Dr. Iplier needn’t worry about the Host for the time being. Let the Host care for Dr. Iplier for a change.”

Dr. Iplier buried his face against the Host’s throat again. “…Okay.”

The Host soothed Dr. Iplier with gentle, soft words, and in between he muttered phrases to heal his wounds and the clean the blood that painted them both. Dr. Iplier sighed with relief when he was finished, butting his head under the Host’s chin. “…Thank you.” He ruffled his wings, then pushed himself to his feet. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d _really_ like to leave this place.”

The Host snorted, standing himself and pressing their foreheads together once more. “Sounds like a plan. Come on.”

Dr. Iplier hummed, but it suddenly cut off, transforming into a low growl. He curled around the Host in an all too familiar protective stance. The Host stiffened, whirling to around to face the doorway while keeping a reassuring hand on Dr. Iplier’s shoulder.

“ _What_ do _you think_ you are _doing?_ ”

_Rage_ washed over him at the sound of that voice, recognizing it instantly. It was that hissing, commanding voice of the naga from his vision. The air began to ripple around him as his emotions ran high, the _need_ to _protect his beloved guardian_ making his breathing pick up. He ran a comforting hand through Dr. Iplier’s fur as the sphynx shuffled closer, whether for the Host’s sake or his own the Host couldn’t tell. “The Host is rescuing Dr. Iplier, and he _is_ leaving this building with him.”

The naga scoffed. “No you’re _not_. I don’t care if you’re a god. I don’t care if it _was_ yours. _I_ caught it fair and square, so it’s _mine_ now.”

Dr. Iplier growled low in his throat, and the Host scowled. “ _He_ is not _anyone’s_ property. He is an intelligent, wonderful creature, and no one’s _pet_ ,” he spat. Blood was beginning to trail down his face again, and he heard some muffled gagging sounds. Guards, no doubt. He slowly stalked forward as he spoke, reaching up to undo the knot in his bandages. “But if ownership is the only thing She-Kral understands, then the Host advises she _listen_ to his words.”

The knot fell away, and he stopped _inches_ from the naga – She-Kral- and he ignored the violent retching as his bare, empty eye sockets were exposed. “ _He_ ,” he hissed, “is **_mine_**.” For a brief, _brief_ moment, as the Host spat the only first-person words he’d spoken in _thousands_ of years, two glowing, golden irises were seen _blazing_ in the gaping holes where his eyes once resided. “And only a _fool_ would dare steal from a god.”

When he got no response back, the naga too shaken to speak, the Host straightened. He turned back to Dr. Iplier, retying the bandages around his sockets as Dr. Iplier subtly shifted a paw so the Host wouldn’t run into him. “The Host will be putting an end to this operation. By the time the Host leaves this place, this building will no longer exist.”

The naga made an odd choking noise. “What?! You can’t do that, this is my life’s work!”

The Host snarled, wheeling on her. “When one’s ‘life’s work’ is abducting, abusing, and _selling_ living beings, it does not have a _right_ to stand. The Host will be freeing every creature here, and he _will_ be destroying this place.” He cocked his head to the side. “Unless She-Kral’s employees desire to be buried under the rubble, the Host suggests they _run_.”

The guards sprinted off, and the Host heard the grating slide of scales over stone, but with a few words the naga was frozen in place. The Host gently cupped a hand under Dr. Iplier’s chin, using the other the scratch a little ways down his spine, and Dr. Iplier _melted_ , sighing and humming happily. The Host chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek before shifting to mumble in his ear. “…Did Dr. Iplier ever have a chance to eat this morning?”

The Host felt Dr. Iplier’s muscles tense under his hand, felt him shift into a hunting crouch. “Not as much as I would’ve liked.”

The Host chuckled again, stepping away from him and toward the doorway. “Well, the Host is going to start on freeing the other poor creatures trapped within these walls. Dr. Iplier can come find him when he’s done.”

He released his hold on the naga, cleaning himself up again while he was at it (he didn’t want to scare the poor things), and walked down the hall, hands clasped behind his back. He heard Dr. Iplier roar and the pounding of his paws on stone, heard the shrieks of the naga as she moved as fast as she could to get away from the furious, hungry sphynx. He payed no attention to it, dissolving the first door he came across and set to work on releasing whoever was inside.

The next day, the building was nothing but dust, and the Host sat on the steps of his library, Dr. Iplier’s head in his lap and napping quietly as he talked and chatted happily with his people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT MY SON AS HIS BIG BEAUTIFUL CAT GO! Anyway, I _really_ like this story, in case you couldn't tell, and I hope you guys did as well! Dr. Iplier and the Host's dynamic is just, so oddly unique in this AU, I don't know if you guys can tell, but it's just so much fun to write and I love them and I love this anyway I'm going to stop rambling now


End file.
